"Look Me Up"

By Invader Sam & Invader Shaun

"That was pure luck! One more round!" Beast Boy cried, shaking his game controller dramatically.

"Pure luck, my ass," Cyborg said, grinning, "You just suck at Karate-Man: Death 5. Why don't you quit and save yourself another humiliating defeat?"

"I do not suck!"

"Tell that to your character. Man, I've never seen someone's head ripped off their body so easily…"

Beast Boy tossed the controller down, disgusted, and sunk down into the couch cushions. It just wasn't fair. Every year Game Station came out with a new version of Karate-Man and every year they rushed to buy it, and every year he got his behind handed to him in a timely fashion. It just wasn't fair.

Cyborg, on the other hand, had grown quite attached to their little ritual, over the five years they'd live together. He stood up and stretched proudly. Then he set his controller down and grinned over at his sulking friend, "If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna fix me a victory-sandwich." He strutted off to the kitchen, where he pillaged the fridge for a combination of meats worthy of a champion.

Robin walked into the room, noting the expressions on his two friends faces, "Awww…Cy, did I miss it?"

"Yeah, it was over pretty quick this time," the android said, slathering a steak roll with mustard.

"Better luck next year, Beast Boy," Robin said, walking over to the kitchen and ducking into the refrigerator and grabbing his water bottle, "If you wanna get your mind off it, the training room's always open."

Beast Boy let out an agonized moan, and slid off the couch onto the floor like water.

As Robin laughed and left the room, Raven came in through the same door. "A little early for lunch, isn't it, Cy?" she asked, eyeing his massive sandwich.

"Never too early for the sweet taste of conquest!" he replied, sitting down at the table and digging in.

"I see…" she said blandly, then crossed to the living room, where Beast Boy was still wallowing in self-pity on the carpet, "Got your ass kicked, huh?"

"I don't need this from everyone!" the green-skinned changeling replied grumpily, getting up and stretching.

"Sorry…" she said, "I was thinking of getting out of the house for a while…wanna come?"

"Anything's better than training," he shrugged, sitting down on the couch again.

"Or getting wupped again!" Cyborg added through a stuffed mouth.

Beast Boy growled and Raven grabbed his arm, "Just ignore him. Come on, let's get out of here." Trying not to seem too forceful, she led him towards the elevator leading to the ground floor.

The android swallowed the large amount of foodstuffs in his mouth, watching the two leave. Those two were together, Robin and Star were together somewhere, and what did he have? A sandwich. He sighed and laid the half-devoured concoction back down on the plate, suddenly not feeling as hungry anymore.

Then the cell phone implanted in his arm rang. 'What the…?' He ejected it out of its slot and checked the caller ID. Not a number he recognized, but he pressed the 'receive' button anyway. "Hello?"

"Wow...it worked," said a familiar female voice, "Cy, is that you?"

"Yeah…who's this?"

"It's Amy…I used the number on your card, and Beast Boy forwarded my call," the voice said, "This is going to sound odd, but I have a favor to ask you."

"Sure, anything," he said, realizing too late that he sounded much too eager, "Whadda ya need?"

"I'm actually on my way into Jump City right now, tailing a lead on Robert Mendoza, a usually-Gotham-based drug lord," she explained, "I thought I'd call and see what help I could get from someone who knows the area."

"Uhhh, sure. I live in the big 'T' in the middle of central lake. Ya can't miss it."

"I remember," she said with a laugh, "I'll see you in a little while."

"Okay," Cyborg said, hanging up his phone. He blinked several times, trying to work out in his head what had just happened. Deciding that somehow his loneliness and boredness issues had just been solved, the android picked up his sandwich and took another bite, once again content to savor the taste of his conquests.

* * *

"You were right. It is impossible to miss."

"Hi to you too."

Amy grinned, her black hair shining in the sun from the open front door of the Tower, "It's nice to see you again, Cyborg. You gonna invite me in?"

"I was thinkin' about it," the large robot said, stepping aside so the doorway to the Tower was a clear path.

"Thanks," she said, stepping inside and glancing around, "Nice place…very spacious."

"It's not much, but it works well enough for our needs," Cyborg commented mildly, following her in and slamming the button to lock the door behind him.

"You know, to look at it from the outside, it almost seems like you're trying to compensate for something," she teased as they reached the elevator.

"Don't got no idea what you're talkin' about," the android said, avoiding her gaze, "Anyways, I think you said you had something serious to talk about, didn't you?"

"I did…" she said, her expression hardening as the elevator reopened and spat them out into the living room, "I've been following Mendoza for about a month now – the case just got handed over to me – and our intelligence tells us that he's relocating here. Seems we were getting too close for his tastes. He didn't count on the GPD having friends in high places here, though."

"Guess he didn't do his homework," Cyborg said, shaking his head, "So…any idea where we're gonna start?"

"Not really," she admitted, embarrassedly, "Back in Gotham, we could count on him to be lurking around the casinos with his entourage," she leaned back against the back of the couch, "Not sure if there're any places here where he'd feel at home. Any ideas?"

"Off the top of my head? Not any good ones," he admitted, then started heading over to the elevator again, "But let's check the comp. It might have a few thoughts for you."

"Sounds good," she said, following after him.

* * *

"Unbelievable…this set-up is amazing," she said, spinning once around the information center, soaking it all in, "Compliments of the Justice League, no doubt?"

"You think we have the dough for this?" the android asked jokingly, "We barely have enough to order a pizza!"

Amy laughed, "You'd never know by the looks of this place," then she stepped up in front of the wall-sized computer, "How's it work?"

Cyborg sat down in the chair before the large machine, "Me and Compy are best buds! I don't really know how the others use him without talkin' to him."

"You mean you can actually communicate with the computer?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Sure," the android nodded, his fingers opening up and extending small, silver cables into the super-computer, "He's not much for conversation, but he sure knows how to get info when I need it."

"That's incredible," she said, eyes wide.

Cyborg didn't respond. He closed his eyes, allowing the millions of tiny zeros and ones of data to course through his mind, translating the code into actual words. After a moment or two, a small list began to form on the screen.

Leigh scanned the list as it came up, her face brightening, "This is perfect…now at least we've got somewhere to start."

Cyborg just smiled.

* * *

"I can't believe you found a suit that fit me…" Cyborg said, struggling with his bowtie, now dressed in a black tuxedo.

"Shopping was never my forte – I'm as surprised as you are," Amy said, standing on tip-toe to help him. She was now wearing a short, white sleeveless dress with stiletto heels to match. Sapphire earrings and necklace highlighted her ice-blue eyes, and her ebony hair was pulled back in a sleek knot, with a few choice strands curled and framing her face.

"Man, it's been forever since I wore like, cloth stuff," Cyborg said, looking over the suit.

"I think it suits you," she said, rummaging through the bags to newly purchased 'camouflage' items and pulling out a small container of cover-up, "Here, sit down and hold still. I'll see if I can't get this to work," she told him, unscrewing the cap, and dipping her fore and middle fingers in the cream.

"What's that stuff?" he asked uncertainly.

"It's simple cover-up," she said, "As I've been told, it's used to conceal 'imperfections' in the complexion. I really don't mean to offend you, but I think this will help you blend in a little better." She started applying the cream, gently spreading it over the bionic parts of his face.

Imperfections. Of course that was how she looked at it. Had he really expected any different? No matter who or where or what the situation was, he was always dissimilar to everyone else, "Okay," he replied mildly, allowing her to begin to mask his robotic differences. The android was far too used to this sort of thing to allow people to see his real feelings. Why should it offend the robot to say that he was different. It wasn't like he had any feelings…

"There," Amy said, finishing with a last swipe with her thumb across his chin, "That's perfect." She closed the near-empty container and wiped her hands off on a towel she'd set aside. "Now, all you need are these," she offered him a pair of dark sunglasses, "And no one will ever recognize you. See?" she held up a hand mirror in which for him to observe her work.

It was a change. And for once he did fit in. If she really liked him better this way, that wouldn't change anything. After all, this was just business. And they could always still be friends… "That's pretty cool. I doubt even the rest of the Titans could figure out who I am now." It's not liked they ever even had a relationship. Friendship was the social limit of a…well, cyborg.

Amy linked her arm with his and smiled up at him, "Ok…let's do this thing."

Cyborg nodded, adjusting the shades that rimmed his eyes, "Sure." It may have just been business, and she may not really like him, but he could be happy with a charade for now. It was better than the loneliness…

* * *

Upon entering Brutus' Palace, no one would ever think that the couple was anything but a beautiful, spoiled heiress and her massive, intimidating escort. No one could see the cop and the superhero beneath the surface. Amy adjusted the purse on her shoulder, already wanting desperately to get out of her high-heels, and glanced slowly around the first floor as they made their way through it. 'Certainly looks like Mendoza's style,' she thought to herself.

Cyborg could feel different pairs of eyes around the room burning into his cranium with their piercing glares. It must come with the territory of being a bodyguard. Well, at least that was what he was pretending to be, for now. It was just as well; he had never been any good at card games anyway.

In amongst the noise of the games, Leigh distinctly could make out the sounds of cat-calls drifting in her direction and flushed. Determined not to blow her cover, she kept a demure smile plastered on her face and forced herself to make eye-contact with a few of the 'oglers' as she passed them. Filling the stereotypical female role had always made her stomach churn, but in this case it seemed necessary.

As they made their way towards the center of the room, a large card table draped in cigar smoke caught her attention. Loud shouting rang from the circle of men, and she picked up a familiar voice with a Latin-American accent among them 'Talk about a lucky break…' she thought to herself. She stopped a few feet away, reaching out and putting and hand on Cyborg's arm. She pointed at the table subtly and then strode slowly towards it.

The large robot nodded and proceeded to stop about two steps away from the table. If she needed back-up, that was his job for now. His mechanical ears perked up, straining to hear everything at the game table.

Amy sidled up to the table, placing one gloved hand on the back of the nearest chair. The men glanced up as she parted the veil of smoke with her other hand. "You boys have room for one more?" she asked seductively.

Two burly-looking men glanced over at the lead male sitting at the head of the table. The man was wearing a snazzy white suit, a glass of wine in one hand and a large, slowly smoking cigar held tightly in the other. He nodded slowly, causing the two men to merely nod at the newcomer. There was another pair of sleaze sitting on the other side of the man. Mendoza smiled at the young woman, "Starting bet is fifty dollars, doll."

"That's fine with me," she said, taking a seat directly across from him and opening her purse. She counted out the bills and set them in the center of the table, "Deal me in."

"Does your friend want to try his luck as well?" the man asked, speaking plainly. It was fairly obvious that he had never dealt with women over the IQ of about 50 or so.

"I'm not sure," she turned back around, "Would you like to play, Victor?" she asked him sweetly.

Cyborg stared at her, wondering if she was deliberately trying to throw their plan by the wayside. No, this was all part of her act. He shook his head slowly, then cracked his neck once or twice, folding his heavily built arms across his chest.

"No, I think he's fine just watching," she said, turning back to the men, "He's so over-protective sometimes."

Mendoza nodded, beginning to deal the cards out once again, "You don't need us to explain the rules of poker, do you doll?" he asked, watching her closely.

"No that's alright," she assured him, "I've played a few times before."

"That's good," he responded, smiling falsely. The players began to look at their cards, not even the briefest flicker of emotion passing across their faces, "Ladies first."

Amy glanced down at her own hand, which wasn't too bad: [Jack of Hearts, 10 of Spades, King of Hearts, King of Diamonds, 2 of Clubs]. Growing up with four older brothers and attending an academy with a 2-to-1 male/female ratio was beginning to show its advantages, "I'll take three," she said, carefully placing her first, second, and fifth cards face-down near the center of the table where the deck was.

Mendoza nodded and handed her three new cards [King of Clubs, Ace of Diamonds, 7 of Spades]. The police officer in disguise smiled sweetly and nodded to the large man next to her, who took his turn. The round netted her a grand total of $375 dollars in profit after betting. The games began to get more intense, with more or less all of the rounds being taken by Leigh, causing one man to have to wipe his brow during the sixth game and the two large bodyguards to quit and become sneering cheerleaders behind Mendoza and his associates.

"Wow…talk about beginners luck, hmm?" she said, as the seventh game went to her as well, "Are you fellas about ready to stop, or shall we have another go?" She knew she was pushing her luck, but she was having just a little too much fun watching the drug dealers squirm.

The man at Mendoza's right whispered something in his ear and the men began rising from their seats. "I think that'll be all for us tonight, doll," the ring leader told her, "Don't spend all your winnings in one place." As a group, the men left in a small heard, pushing through the crowds towards the back of the building.

Amy collected the money quickly, 'Nothing wrong with playing Robin Hood every so often,' and rose as well. Joining Cyborg once again, she whispered, "I think this is our cue to head out back, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said, watching as the men headed for the back door. The large android looked down at her bulging purse and raised an eyebrow curiously, "Nice handbag ya got there."

She grinned, "Yeah…I'd forgotten how much fun that game is. Not that I'm allowed to condone gambling or anything."

"Of course," Cyborg told her, rolling his eyes. He began to walk towards the back exit, easily wading through the crowd (all of whom were at least half a head shorter than him) and creating a path for Leigh.

She followed him through the parting crowd, noticing for the first time that his attitude had turned colder. Was it part of the act? She couldn't bring herself to brush it off as simply as that. She frowned, only able to watch his body language from behind now, wondering if she may have slipped up somewhere and brought on this change. But there was little time to think about it, as they had reached the back door, drowned in shadows and unguarded. 'No doubt Mendoza's men paid them off to look the other way,' Amy thought, 'and they haven't found their way back yet.'

Cyborg motioned for her to stop with one hand, pressing his ear against the large entryway dividing the two undercover agents and their quarry. Outside, a hushed but hurried conversation was proceeding rapidly.

"You said the shipment would be in tonight! This isn't exactly the business where customers like delays, Mr. Anquea!" Medoza's voice was dark, his breath coming in short, angry puffs.

"It will be in tonight! I promise! It'll just be a couple hours late – the boys had some trouble getting it out of Metropolis…but don't worry! They said it's all fine and they'll just need a couple of extra hours getting' down here." A second, voice, weaker and anxious, explained quickly.

"It better be. C'mon boys!" the voice began to get fainter, nearly causing Cyborg to miss the last few words, "Let's see if Mr. Anquea and Mr. Venaca can manage to unload a boat without adult supervision."

Amy watched Cyborg anxiously. She had heard only muffled bits and pieces of what had been said beyond the door, but she knew his bionically enhanced senses had probably caught every word. She raised her eyebrows imploringly as he straightened up, and whispered, "What happened out there?"

"We've gotta go," the android said shortly, straightening up, "We have a meeting at the docks. Do you want me to call the guys?"

"If you think we'll need them," she shrugged, "I've never actually had to fight his goons before, so I'm not sure how elite they are."

"Probably nothing a robot couldn't handle, right?" Cyborg said, allowing a bit too much of his emotion to bleed through to his words. Realizing his mistake, he quickened his pace, eager to reach the entrance they used to enter the casino.

"What…?" she drew in a breath quickly, and then hurried to catch up with him, grabbing his arm with both hands in an attempt to slow him down, "What did you just say?"

"Nuthin'," he said shortly, pulling out the fob to his car from his finger as he stepped outside into the warm September night.

She released his arm, realizing any attempts to hold him back were in vain. "It wasn't nothing…you used the word 'robot'…" she brushed a black curl out of her face and continued, "Is that how you think I see you?"

"Hey, it's not your problem what 'imperfections' a guy has, right? So just drop it," Cyborg told her, his attitude quickly turning sour. His sleek, blue-and-silver card pulled up in front of him on its own. He clicked another button, which popped open both of the front doors, and put away the tiny controller. The android stepped into his baby, trying to relax to the hum of its engine.

She quickly slid into the passenger seat, her evening having just gotten a hell of a lot more complicated. "It's not like that at all…" she told him, "What did I do to make you think that?"

He sighed and looked over at her, unbelievingly. Slowly, the large robot took off his hat and began to rub the masking cream from his face. The contact lens came off as well, revealing his normal facial features, "Clothing? Face-paint? I know you wish I could be like you. It'd make things a lot easier, wouldn't it? But I'm not like you anymore. If it were my choice, I'd still have a normal life," he said moodily, watching out of his window as people walked by, "I'd still have a shot at a decent relationship. But all anyone ever sees are the imperfections, the differences. Even you." The engine roared to life, and the car shot off, racing in the general direction of the shipping docks.

Amy twisted her clasped hand in her lap as they drove, pulling off the gloved and staring down at the un-pigmented palms, how much they contrasted from the brown-sugar coloring of the rest of her skin. She'd known prejudice, she known different, but she could believe that for all the hurt she could remember, she had just managed to do the same thing to someone else. It was the last thing she'd ever wanted; she'd sworn to herself years ago to die before she ever reached such a hypocritical level. She looked over at Cyborg, the human-side of his features facing her, and her stomach tried to leap up her throat. She'd never been more disgusted, or angry with herself. And she couldn't even come up with the right words to repair the damage. She felt a warm tear roll down her cheek and quickly brushed it away.

They'd reached the docks.

* * *

"Hey, has anyone seen Cyborg around?" Beast Boy asked, looking around the kitchen and over into the living room.

Robin looked up, surprised to hear another voice in the vicinity, 'No, why?"

"I just thought he might want a chance to get his butt kicked in Karate Man: Death 5."

"One, I doubt you would be able to kick Cyborg's butt," Robin said, listing his points with his fingers, "And two…, you could never kick Cyborg's butt," the Boy Wonder finished, abandoning his train of thought and retreating back to his book.

"Oh shut up…" Beast Boy muttered, pulling a bottle of soy milk out of the fridge and leaving to continue his search elsewhere in the Tower.

* * *

The docks were quiet as Amy slid out of the car, and unstrapped her pistol from her leg, where it had been concealed beneath her skirt. All her thoughts during the drive were forcefully shoved to the back of her mind. She needed to have a clear head now. If she let herself get distracted, she could get herself killed, or worse, blow this mission. She shut the door behind her, and attached the silencer to her Wolfram.

"Looks like this party's already started," Cyborg commented, watching as men tromped up and down a long ramp leading from the old, beat-up liner down to the ground a short distance away.

"There are only about a dozen that I can see from here, and probably not many more inside," she said, stepping back into the shadow of a large crate, watching the action, "I just hope we can get to Mendoza before he makes his exit."

The large laser cannon on Cyborg's right arm cocked itself, breaking the sleeve to his suit on that side, "Shouldn't be too hard," he commented, now focused completely on the upcoming battle.

Amy's blue eyes lit up as she watched a figure in a familiar white suit make his way past his lackeys up into the boat. "If you can give me some cover, I can get inside the ship and nail him," she said.

"Cover fire is my favorite assignment," the android grinned, momentarily forgetting their fight, "GO!" he yelled, launching a blue energy blast towards the men with the crates on the ground.

As the blast hit the crate, the men scattered in anger and confusion and smoke rose up around them. 'Perfect!' Amy thought, dashing forward unnoticed and surprisingly agile despite the hindrance of the stiletto heels, which clicked like muted gunshots up the entry ramp of the boat. She could hear the brawl beginning behind her, but willed herself not to look back. Cyborg could handle himself; he'd proven that to her during their first joint venture. She could hear Latino voices down the corridor to her right and she followed them swiftly, Wolfram at the ready.

The two burly guards from earlier in the casino were ready and waiting for an attacker, with Mendoza running farther down the hall behind them. They were slow in bringing their weapons (two generic pistols) to bare, however, when they saw who their assailant was, "It's dat chick!" one of them shouted in surprise and confusion.

"That's right boys," she said, her voice having long since lost all its pretentious sweetness, "And playtime's over. Drop your weapons and keep your hands where I can see them." She kept both hands on her pistol, watching them for any sudden movements.

The two men moved slowly, carefully placing their weapons on the ground and kicking them towards her. One grinned, "Playtime's over, for you maybe."

Instantly, she made to spin around, but the strong hands of Mr. Anquea caught her in mid spin, one clutching her throat, the other twisting her right arm. With a stifled cry of pain, she dropped the gun, cursing herself for not having the brains to see a sneak attack coming. She swore under her breath as Mr. Venaca pulled a pistol out of his jacket, and aimed it at her head. "Such a shame to have to blow off such a pretty face…" he muttered as he stuck the barrel under her chin.

* * *

Outside, Cyborg threw the last of his would-be attackers into a heap at the bottom of the ramp. Now, where'd Leigh gotten off to? He began up the ramp at a jog, wondering why she hadn't come back triumphant with several men twice her size in handcuffs…

* * *

Mr. Anquea shoved Amy through a door into the captain's cabin roughly and she stumbled forward, still struggling against him. If only she could get her arms free, but he held them tight against her back and she couldn't move them. "Look what we caught, boss," Mr. Venaca said, gesturing at her with his gun, "This chick thinks she's some kinda hero."

"And she was prepared," Mr. Anquea added, "Show 'im the gun she was packin'."

Mendoza was leaning idly against the helm as Mr. Venaca handed him the Wolfram. He inspected it for a moment and then turned to look at Amy. "Tell me, doll, how does a sweet thing like you come to own a weapon like this?"

Amy said nothing, but only continued to struggle against Mr. Anquea's tight grip, glaring daggers at the drug lord.

"Nothing to say, doll?" the crime boss asked quietly, "Lock her up downstairs, boys. I want to keep this one quiet. If she doesn't want to talk, that's all the less noise for this operation."

"Couldn't we just silence her now, boss?" Mr. Venaca asked, grinning demonically, and twirling his pistol in his hand.

"Later, Mr. Venaca," Mendoza said crisply, "The sooner she's dead, the sooner they'll find the body. And I'd rather not take any chances right now. This one must have friends up high to hold this weapon. Friends that we have in common at Gotham Police Station, if I'm correct, Miss…"

"Go to hell," she spat at him.

The man scowled, then motioned for the four of them to escort her from his presence. One of the two large, hulking body guards reached for the door handle, but suddenly was blown backwards as a large energy beam broke down the door, causing Mr. Anquea to jump backwards in astonishment as the blast nearly scalped him. Cyborg was standing in the doorway, his frame nearly filling the entirety of that of the door, "I ain't gonna ask this nicely," the android said, scowling at the five men, "Let her go, now!"

"Who's this freak??" Vanaca cried, gaping up at the menacing figure.

Taking advantage of the moment, Amy slammed her sharp heel down hard on Anquea's foot. With a yelp, he loosened his grip on her and she pulled free, wheeling around and smashing her palm into his jaw, sending him reeling backwards. Bursting with energy, she swung out at Vanaca with a spin kick to his back that sent him stumbling towards the android, "Cyborg – catch!"

The android responded in his own way, rearing back with his fist and pounding the man to the ground. The two large bodyguards both open fired at Cyborg, who fired off his arm again, incinerating the bullets and causing the two men to leap away and let there weapons become smoking pieces of metal slag.

Amy caught Mendoza cocking her Wolfram and kicked it out of his hands. It clattered across the floor. "I don't think so," she said waving a finger at him.

The drug lord roared and leaped up at her, fists flying.

Cyborg grappled with the two men, his mechanically-enhanced muscles more than a match for the both of them. Two ground-shaking blows later, both men crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

He turned to where Amy and Mendoza were locked in combat. She seemed to be holding her own – no, she was wearing him down. The older man obviously hadn't counted on a woman putting up much of a fight, and his fatigue was already showing. Then Cyborg saw him slip a knife out of his sleeve.

There was no time to think. The man flashed a grin and moved to stab the unsuspecting young woman. The knife blade did not get far; an instant later, it met with Cyborg's detached left arm, piercing through the tough metallic armor and causing the limb to begin to short circuit. Mendoza let go of his weapon, shocked.

As the android's arm hit the floor, Amy reared back and hit Mendoza square in the face with her fist. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious, the same instant she hit her knees, staring at the knife blade still lodged in the detached arm. Ignoring the shocks it sent coursing up her body, she pulled it free and closed the blade within the handle. Then she lifted up the arm, cradling it as if it were an infant, and rose to her feet. "That's twice in one night you've saved my life…" she said, gazing up at him, "How could I ever think you were anything less than human…?"

Cyborg smiled at her, feeling in his detached limb obviously shut down for safety reasons, "It's a mistake we all make. Even me at one time…" he reached over and picked up his arm, looking at it in a discouraged manner, "Ah well, I guess this baby won't be seein' any action for a while."

"I'm so sorry…" she said, "For a lot of things…" She found herself twisting her hands again nervously and turned her eyes to the debris-strewn floor.

"It's alright," he mumbled, a bit embarrassed himself, "I mighta over-reacted a bit…"

"No, you were right…it was totally insensitive of me," she said, "I swear the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you…" she looked back up at him, pretty as ever, her face flushed from the preceding battle, "Forgive me…?"

The large half-human beamed, "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"Make sure these guys stay behind bars where they belong," he finished, looking down at the five criminals, all of whom were no longer in the world of the conscious.

"Not a problem," she laughed, "Funny…I was expecting you to ask for something else…" she added, blushing just slightly.

Cyborg got the hint and went slightly red, "Now that I would consider a reward for saving you the second time," he said sheepishly, leaning downwards towards her.

"Sounds fair to me," she said, and stood on tip-toe so that their lips met. She wrapped her arms around his neck, forgetting all the aches and bruises for a gloriously long moment before lowering herself again, "Thank you."

"No prob."

* * *

It was near midnight by the time the Jump City officials had collected the crooks and the pair of crime-fighters found their way back to Titan's Tower. A half-moon lit their path as the T-Car rolled into the garage and Cyborg killed the motor. Amy pushed open the passenger side door and stretched her arms out towards the dashboard. "I just know I'm gonna be sore tomorrow," she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Most likely," Cyborg said nodding, "Ya know," he began, rubbing his neck with his lone good hand, "It's kinda late to be heading back to Gotham…"

"Are you inviting me to spend the night…?" she asked, smiling.

He bristled nervously, "Maybe…" he responded meekly, staring at the steering wheel.

She leaned close and kissed his cheek, "I'd love to."

He smiled briefly, then felt his cheeks burn as he stammered, "You know I can't…you know…ever…I'm not built for it anymore…"

She wrapped her arms around him gently, "Tell me Cy…you feel like staying up all night and talking with me?"

He relaxed a bit, glad to know she wasn't going to run off because of that fact, "Sure."

"That's good enough for me," she said, turning his head towards her and kissing him on the lips for a second time that night, "Come on. You can fix us a late dinner." She slid out of her seat and shut the door behind her, waiting for him.

The android clambered clumsily out of the automobile and hurried to open the door to the Tower for her. She stepped inside, and then reached back, taking hold of his good arm and pulling him in along with her.

The End


Authors' Note: We actually weren't sure about how much of Cyborg's anatomy was still human, but after conferring with a few other TT fans, we made a choice. And we plan on upholding it through all of our stories.